


Wretch

by ChokolatteJedi



Category: The Parent Trap (1961)
Genre: F/F, Hate to Love, Identity Reveal, Prank Wars, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17072225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi
Summary: “Takes one to know one.”





	Wretch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [idleflower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idleflower/gifts).



After three hours of living together, Sharon was sorely tempted to call her grandmother and have her override Mrs. Inch. If anyone could do such a thing, it would be her grandmother. Grandmother would be utterly appalled to learn that she had been sabotaged in her own tent, or that that horrid girl had slapped her! Of course, were Sharon to make that call, Mrs. Inch might just tell her grandmother exactly what Sharon had done herself. That was not a conversation Sharon wanted to have.

Placing the idea into the category of last resort, Sharon resolved to simply ignore her new roomate. She might be required to eat and sleep with the other girl, but there was nothing to keep her from talking with her friends the rest of the time.

SS

Susan knew that her new tent-mate was a neat freak. She’d seen the type before, and Little-Miss-Stuck-Up had had the neatest area of the other cabin before Susan and her friends had played their prank. Mrs. Inch did inspections, but there was a degree of messiness that Susan could maintain and still be able to tidy by the time the adult entourage made it to their side of camp.

A little mess wouldn’t bother Susan, but she knew it would drive her wretch of a tent-mate right up the flagpole! With that in mind, she set about her unpacking with a vengeance. Her clothes were left out, her luggage was tossed haphazardly onto the third cot, and her pictures were strewn all over her desk. One of her blankets had even managed to migrate over to what’s-her-face’s side of the tent.

As Susan idly munched on a fig newton, her feet propped up on her cot, she noted the other girl’s reaction out of the corner of her eye. She kept glancing at the mess and appeared to be grinding her teeth. Susan hid a smile behind her fig newton. All according to plan.

SS

Sharon was about to blow her top! When the inspection call had been blown, she had glared around the tent at Susan’s mess, making sure none of it was on her side of their space. Susan, however, had simply ignored her, snuggling under her blanket as though she couldn’t be bothered. Sharon refused to be punished further for this girl’s actions.

Scowling, Sharon nudged the crumpled up blanket slightly further away from her own desk. Susan just smirked and closed her eyes as though going back to sleep. Well, Sharon was having none of that. She stomped out to the porch to await Mrs. Inch and the other counselors.

When they arrived at the isolated tent, with much noisy fanfare, Sharon allowed the adults to enter the tent first, following behind them with an innocent expression plastered on her face. That expression quickly morphed to one of utter surprise. The tent was completely cleaned on Susan’s side! Her blankets were folded neatly, her photos were tucked away, and her suitcases were neatly nestled together in the corner. Even Susan was presentable, fully dressed and standing at attention.

What really made Sharon’s jaw drop was the fact that her side of the tent looked as thought a tornado had hit it! Her cot, which she had carefully made, was all mussed as though she had just woken up. Her toiletries were all disorganized, her clothes were sticking out of her dresser and closet, and her desk had books and letters all over it! Why, that horrible girl had sandbagged her!

Sharon withstood the blistering scorn of Mrs. Inch as best she could, all the while plotting revenge on her wicked, wretch of a tentmate.

SS

Susan was ready for the storm as soon as Mrs. Inch and her crew left. She was actually surprised that Little-Miss-Stuck-Up managed to wait until the counselors were probably out of earshot, instead of just outside the door. When she did explode, however, she exploded with a ferocity that was unexpected. Susan had somewhat expected a slap, after the fight at the dance, but she hadn’t expected to be tackled to the floor.

As they wrestled, scratched, and bit, Susan struggled to flip her opponent. She was raised roughhousing with her dad; Little-Miss-Stuck-Up looked like she’d faint if someone got rough with her. To her surprise, however, Susan found toppling this girl harder than she’d expected. Despite her long flowing hair and perfect nails, Little-Miss-Stuck-Up was not quite a push-over.

When Susan did finally wrestle her way to the top, pinning one arm in the process, the other girl squirmed beneath her ferociously. It was all Susan could do to keep her place, and she was reminded of one time when Schotzli had seen a snake on the path and tried to buck her off. But Susan had stayed on her mount then and she was darn well gonna stay on now.

She was almost tossed off once, and it was a close thing, but Susan maintained her dominance, and she leaned close to taunt her prisoner. “Mary was right. I should bite your nose off so you don’t look like me any more.”

“You wouldn’t dare, you wretch!” her captive snarled.

“I would so!” Susan ducked down as though to do that very thing, but renewed squirming from her prisoner meant that she missed. Instead of hitting her nose, Susan found their lips meeting. It was probably entirely unnecessary to call the action an actual kiss, but it lasted slightly longer than was strictly necessary, and had very little of the anger she had intended with her initial move. Thus, a kiss was what she would call it, at least in her mind.

Little-Miss-Stuck-Up immediately stopped squirming, and Susan wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or not. That kiss was nothing like the one she had shared with Stafford early in the dance, before it had all gone so horribly wrong. In fact, Susan thought she might quite like to do it again. Rolling her hips to get into a better position, she leaned down, capturing her captive’s lips again.

The fight was renewed, with a slightly more desperate edge, and Susan couldn’t help but smirk. This was far better than some terribly shy boy!

SS

“But it’s my mother, too.”

Sharon gasped, far more concerned than Susan expected. “This is terrible!”

“How so?” Susan asked, ignoring the call to lunch. “This is perfect! We can work together now - figure something out - to get mom and dad back together!”

“But-”

“Uh oh! Ooh! Oh! It’s sensational! We could - could we? It could work…”

“Susan-”

“Of course we’d have to cut your hair, but it could really work-”

“We can’t-”

“Oh boy! Oh, but if we could-”

“SUSAN!” Sharon actually shook her to get her attention.

“What?”

“We can’t bring mom and dad together! What happens when we kiss in front of them?

Susan considered this. “Why not? Sisters do that kind of thing, don’t they?”

“Not the way we have been,” Sharon replied quite primly. “Girls shouldn’t even kiss that way; grandmother would throw a fit!”

Susan waved that away, though part of her found it hard to dismiss the family that she secretly craved. “They don’t need to know.”

Sharon glowered. “So we won’t be together like that anymore? We’ll stop kissing? Stop… everything? Behave like normal sisters?”

“I don’t know how normal sisters behave,” Susan deliberately misunderstood. “I’ve never had one before, of course.”

“You’re impossible!” Sharon huffed.

“That’s what Verbena always says!” Susan grinned. “You’ll fit right in in California!”

Sharon groaned and flopped down onto the spare cot, since Susan was on her’s. “You’re not taking this seriously at all!”

Susan slipped over to her side and gently kissed behind Sharon’s ear, which she had learned over the past four days produced a delightful shiver in the other girl. “I’m splendidly serious about you, Sharon!” she declared.

Sharon simply groaned and burrowed further into the pillow. “You’re a wretch!” was her muffled complaint.

“Takes one to know one,” Susan replied, then kissed her again.


End file.
